Married to the Enemy
by odanobuna
Summary: This was the first time they met in battle. "Why don't you kill me now?" he asked. "Why don't you stop holding back?" she bit back. "Because I am not going to harm my wife," he replied. "Then I will not kill my husband."
1. Chapter 1

Katarina cursed when she finally spotted the Demacian army's camp. The mission sounded simple enough – infiltrate the camp alone and assassinate the prince – but the scouting information that she received was completely inaccurate. The route she had been instructed to take was impassable and the camp was not even in the right location. She had had to waste several days finding a detour and a few more to locate the camp. She was tired and hungry. Hoping to complete the mission faster, she had gone without sleep ever since her food supplies had exhausted three days ago, but haste makes waste, and it had only slowed her down even more.

The Demacian camp was located in a valley, surrounded by mountains in the South and West, a grassy plain in the North, and a dense forest in the East. The mountains gave her a natural vantage point from which she could observe the camp. Security appeared fairly lax with not too many patrol guards. She identified Prince Jarvan's tent in the South-East area after seeing a figure walking into it while carrying a lance with a tell-tale Demacian standard on it, which fit the description given to her by Noxian sources.

From afar, Katarina observed many people walking in and out of the tent. Two of them drew her attention in particular. The first was a female soldier wearing red armour and a pair of asymmetric gauntlets. Was this the rumoured half-dragon? The prince had recently rejoined the army after embarking on an extended journey, and there were rumours that he had recruited a half-dragon along the way. Some Noxian soldiers involved in the last few skirmishes with the Demacian army reported a fierce warrior fighting on the frontlines, but there were no eyewitness accounts of a dragon yet. Katarina made a mental note to find out more about that soldier in red if time permitted.

The second person that caught her eye was an exceptionally rugged soldier wearing blue and gold heavy armour. Garen "Might of Demacia" Crownguard, leader of the Dauntless Vanguard. Katarina had not met him in battle, but she knew of him through some… personal history. She had told no one about their previous encounters, and she was certain that Garen had not either. It would be an understatement to say that their higher-ups in Noxus and Demacia would not take it well if they ever found out about their shared history. Katarina pushed those thoughts out of her mind. They were all just illusions being confused with her memories. He had moved on, and so had she.

The day passed quickly by as Katarina waited for the sun to set. She had memorised the sentry patterns and planned her entrance and exit routes accordingly. She would infiltrate the camp when the sentries changed shift, kill the prince, and then escape into the dense forest, taking advantage of a gap in the patrols paths. No killing of guards this time because she did not have the energy to drag their bodies away to an unseen location, having not eaten for three days. She spotted Garen leaving Jarvan's tent fifteen minutes before the targeted change of shift. Perfect timing. Katarina stumbled to her feet, feeling a little groggy from the lack of nourishment. It was time to set off.

Entering the camp was the easy part. The night served as an invisibility cloak for an assassin, casting shadows that sheltered her from the drowsy eyes of a sleepy guard. She followed the route plotted in her head. Right turn, straight ahead, stick to the wall of the tent to avoid the oncoming patrol, then belly-crawl under the ropes of the tent. Wait for the moon to be blocked by clouds and then cross to the other side. Now turn left… or was it right? It had to be the left… wait, no, it should be straight ahead. Or had she taken a wrong turn? Katarina silently cursed. Her exhaustion was taking its toll. She could not remember the path anymore. She was lost while deep inside the enemy camp.

Footsteps approached from behind her. Katarina stepped around the corner to the left and squeezed horizontally into a gap between two adjacent tents. There was a puddle conveniently located beside her, its reflection allowing her to observe the person approaching. It was the rumoured half-dragon. Katarina managed to get a good look as the half-dragon walked past. She had bluish-brown skin and bright red hair tied into a single long braid. Her red armour with gold trimming was recognisably different from the rest of the Demacian soldiers'. A horned helmet protected her head, while a short breastplate armoured her shoulders and chest. Low-rise leggings covered her lower limbs and a pair of asymmetric gauntlets shielded her forearms. The gauntlet on her right arm was designed to look like a dragon's head, while the left gauntlet resembled a dragon's jaw. Her upper arms were left exposed, as well as her entire belly from the lower ribs to the lower abdomen. Katarina could not tell whether she was a real dragon or simply that her armour made her look like one.

The soldier in red walked past Katarina's hiding place. Katarina was about to slip out in the other direction when the unthinkable happened. Her stomach _growled_. Katarina's eyes widened as the soldier in red stopped in her tracks and turned her head at the sound. Luckily for Katarina, the moon was behind her, allowing her to remain hidden in the shadows of the two tents, but she would definitely be seen if the soldier in red stepped too close. Katarina did not dare to breathe. The soldier was coming closer. Any second now and she would be seen…

"There you are Shyvana! I've been looking for you!"

Prince Jarvan stepped out from the tent behind Katarina and drew the soldier's attention away. Katarina closed her eyes in relief. That was a very close shave. Plus, she had located the prince. Jarvan muttered something inaudible before taking Shyvana's hand and walking away with her.

Jarvan was only lightly-armoured this time and was not wearing his helmet. This was her chance! Katarina stepped out from her hiding spot and unclasped a throwing knife from her belt. All it would take was a single throw to the back of his neck. Jarvan was completely unsuspecting. Katarina held the blade of the knife between her thumb and forefinger. She pulled her arm back and flung. She knew it would be a bulls-eye right after she released it. The aim was true and the follow-through was perfect. The knife flew a few metres through the air, homing in on its target.

It did not hit.

Shyvana had somehow sensed danger and turned around just in time to deflect the knife with the dragon-jaw gauntlet. Her face was lined with fury as she glowered at Katarina with her arms spread wide, clearly determined to protect Jarvan.

That was it. She had been discovered. Mission failed. Time to run.

The peaceful camp burst into life in response to the assassin alarm while Katarina ran. She turned right at a corner before skidding to a halt. Garen Crownguard stood at the end of the path with his full armour equipped in all its glory and his sword pointed towards her. Katarina would have relished the prospect of a duel on any other night, but she was too physically and mentally drained this time. She sprinted away in another direction.

Garen's footsteps thundered after her, pursuing her out of the camp and into the dense forest. His shouts rang in her ears every few seconds. Katarina was running out of stamina, but try as she might, she could not seem to shake him off. She was running like a headless chicken now, having long lost her sense of direction after entering the forest. She was forced to stop running after what seemed like ages. Ahead of her stood a rock wall. Garen emerged from the clearing behind her. Katarina was trapped now.

Katarina unsheathed her twin daggers before turning around to face her opponent. The moonlight illuminated the familiar features of his face. He looked exactly as she remembered, except a little more rugged. Garen raised his sword towards her in a defensive stance. She had not wanted to fight, but there was no choice now.

Taking the initiative, Katarina dashed forward and Garen did too. She disappeared just before they got in range of each other and reappeared behind Garen, throwing two knives that embedded in the back of his armour. She followed up with a slash towards his neck but Garen caught her arm and swung her into the rock wall.

A dazed Katarina shook her head to clear her vision. The next thing she knew, Garen had gripped her shoulders and rammed his knee into her stomach. Katarina grimaced, the wind knocked out of her. A second strike in the stomach from Garen's other knee caused her to gasp. A third one followed, and a fourth, and a fifth. After the tenth hit, Katarina brought her knees up in a desperate attempt to end the barrage, kicking Garen's chest and forcing him back. She slid down the rock wall and immediately rolled to the side, her head narrowly avoiding Garen's boot.

The fight continued with a Shunpo from Katarina. Both fighters threw attack after attack at each other. Swords, daggers, hand-to-hand combat, even hurling surrounding objects as projectiles. The fight had devolved into a battle of attrition.

Katarina panted as she held her twin daggers in front of her. Long face-to-face battles never favoured her, since she specialised in taking out important targets swiftly without giving them the chance to react. She could already feel her attacks slowing down due to the exertion, as well as the hunger and lack of sleep. Garen had taken almost no physical damage from Katarina's daggers except for a few shallow cuts on his face from the throwing knives that barely grazed him. His armour had taken the brunt of her attacks, which scratched and poked small holes in the metal without really penetrating. He looked slightly exhausted from swinging his heavy sword around, but was still very much battle-worthy.

Katarina, on the other hand, was almost worn out by that point. Garen's sword may have been slower than her twin daggers, but it took all of her strength to block the fierce slashes with both hands, leaving the rest of her body wide open. Her unarmoured belly ached from the punishment dished out by the punches, kicks, knees, and elbows that had connected. She was sure that it would bruise for the next few days. Her back also continued to sting after a botched Shunpo had ended with Garen slamming her onto the ground.

There was no way for her to win after Garen survived her initial barrage of attacks, but there was no escape route either. Garen had chased her to a dead end in the forest with a solid rock wall behind her.

Garen charged forward with his sword held above his head, swinging it at her in a downward arc. Katarina just managed to block the strike with her twin daggers crossed before it could cleave her in two. Garen was staring down at her, and she forced herself to return a defiant glare, as her muscles screamed in pain from the effort it took to hold back the sword. Gritting her teeth, Katarina managed to push Garen's sword to the left. Defending that one attack had used up the last of her energy, however, and she could not react in time to block the next one. Using the momentum from the deflected attack, Garen spun around full-circle before viciously smashing the pommel of his heavy sword into Katarina's now-unguarded midsection.

Katarina gasped and staggered backwards a few steps before landing on one knee with her left arm cradling her sore stomach. She dry-heaved a couple of times before blood rushed up her throat and out of her mouth, staining the ground red. That last strike had hit her right in the bellybutton and caused internal injury.

The grass rustled as Garen rushed towards her. His sword was down by his side and Katarina could see the concern clouded in his eyes. He reached for her shoulder but she swiped his arm away with her free hand.

"Don't touch me!" Katarina screamed. She willed herself to stand, but was forced back onto one knee again when her abdominal muscles protested.

"Enough, Kat, you can't even stand. I'll let you go this time."

Garen's words triggered a deep-seated reaction in more ways than one. If there was one thing Katarina resented, it was being looked down upon by her opponents, especially if it's Garen. Aside from that…

"DO. NOT. EVER. CALL ME KAT AGAIN!"

Katarina spit out a mouthful of blood and lunged forward, ignoring all the pain in her body. She kept one hand over her stomach, protecting it from further injury, as she slashed at Garen with the single blade in her right hand. Her attacks were random, a far cry from her usual precise and calculated assaults, and her offensive capability was blunted with only one weapon. Garen easily parried the single dagger with his sword. Katarina's battered state led to several gaps in her defence, but Garen never capitalised on them, which made her even more infuriated.

With an indignant cry, Katarina dropped to the ground and swept Garen with her legs, causing him to land on his back. She mounted him before he could react and held her dagger to his exposed neck. She was starting to feel a little light-headed as blood continued to pour out of her mouth.

Garen remained silent. Katarina could feel the rise and fall of his chest as he regained his breath from the fall.

"Looks like we're in a very familiar position, aren't we, Kat?" Garen breathed. "Why don't you kill me now?"

"Why don't you stop holding back?" Katarina bit back.

Garen closed his eyes briefly. Their eyes met when he opened them again.

"Because I am not going to harm my wife."

"Then I will not kill my husband," Katarina whispered, before collapsing.

Katarina could hear Garen calling her name over and over, but his voice was becoming more and more distant as her vision faded to darkness.


	2. Chapter 2

Garen pulled a semi-unconscious Katarina into a sitting position, supporting her back with his knee before pouring a bottle of health potion into her mouth. She gagged and rejected the liquid, regurgitating all of it and vomiting out another mouthful of blood. Heart pounding in anxiety, Garen uncorked another bottle and slowly tipped its contents into Katarina's mouth. Katarina coughed and retched, but the health potion stayed down this time.

Garen heaved a small sigh of relief. Katarina would live for now as long as the health potion did its work. She was not out of danger yet, however, as a slow stream of blood continued to trickle out of the corner of her lips. She kept one hand pressed against her injured stomach, but Garen could see the whole area starting to discolour, forming a large bruise that contrasted with her normally pale skin.

Katarina needed medical attention, but where could he possibly take her? Bringing her back to camp was out of the question when she had just attempted to assassinate Jarvan. He also could not take her back to her home since she needed medical attention urgently. They were slightly North of the South-Western ridge of the Ironspike Mountains, too far away from both Noxus and Demacia, though taking her to Demacia was clearly not possible either in these circumstances.

Furthermore, he also had to return to camp by the next day in order to avoid raising any suspicions. It would look odd if he disappeared for more than 24 hours after chasing an assassin but subsequently returned without having captured her. It would be problematic for both Katarina and himself if their past relationship was discovered. The only feasible options remaining were the two city-havens of science, Piltover and Zaun.

He needed a healer that could be trusted to keep everything a secret, and there was only one person he knew who lived in Piltover and fit that description: Janna Windforce, a close friend of his sister, Lux. Garen had not met Janna personally, but he knew about her abilities as a healer from Lux. He only hoped that Janna was not out on a mission when he eventually reached the city.

Garen scooped Katarina up, making sure that she was steady and comfortable, before making his way out of the forest, following the markers that he had left behind while chasing after her. He subconsciously took note of how small and light she felt in his arms, only slightly heavier than he remembered from years ago due to the added weight of her weapons and leather armour. He could recall her having worn a beautiful white dress during one of the first few times that he had carried her in this manner. He remembered how radiant her smile had been as she snuggled closer to his chest, which made him smile softly back at her. All of that had happened during an occasion that had been so much happier for both of them, but those times have passed now.

The darkness was beginning to fade as Garen approached the outskirts of Piltover, having trekked the entire night. His arms were starting to cramp and his legs felt like lead from the intense straining over the last eight hours or so of uphill speed walking while carrying Katarina in his arms. Still, he pushed on doggedly until the tall spire that sat atop the Yordle Academy of Science & Progress finally came into view. He had to hurry. Katarina's skin was starting to feel feverish and her breathing was beginning to sound quite laboured.

The city of Piltover was designed like a wheel. The Academy stood in the central hub of the city at the summit of a small hill, and the city's main streets radiated outwards like spokes of the wheel. Smaller streets connected the spokes in concentric circles that rose and dipped with the terrain.

The city's streets were fairly deserted as Garen walked through them, since most of its citizens were still deep in slumber. Garen headed towards the city centre, where he figured the city's most prominent members would mainly be residing in. He stopped upon reaching the innermost circular street, unsure of where to go next. The clicking of a gun from directly behind him caused him to freeze.

"Put your hands up where I can see them and turn around slowly," commanded a smooth but firm feminine voice from behind him.

Garen turned around and found himself face to face with the barrel of a wooden rifle. Its wielder wore a purple off-the-shoulder dress and a top hat with purple and gold vertical stripes. The gunslinger took one look at Garen and her eyes widened in recognition.

"Garen? Garen Crownguard, the Might of Demacia? Why in the heavens are you prowling the streets of Piltover at this unearthly hour… carrying what appears to be a passed-out Sinister Blade in your arms?"

"Please Sheriff," Garen began, having recognised the Sheriff of Piltover's distinct tall hat from various reports that he had read about her. "I'm looking for Janna Windfield. Katarina here is badly injured and needs medical treatment immediately."

The Sheriff narrowed her eyes at him before lowering her rifle. Her gaze drifted down to Katarina. Whatever questions she might have had, she did not voice them, gesturing instead with an elegant tilt of her head for him to follow her.

They stopped at a single-storeyed white building after walking a few blocks. The Sheriff rapped her knuckles on the door. When there was no response after a minute, she began pounding on the door with the base of her fist. This time, the door opened, and there stood a girl with long blond hair, still dressed in her nightgown and rubbing her eyes with irritation written all over her face.

"Caitlyn, it's 5 am! Surely this can wait till… oh my!" Janna exclaimed when Caitlyn moved aside to reveal Garen and a battered Katarina. She ushered her visitors down a corridor into a room and indicated for Garen to place Katarina on the bed. She then shooed Garen out of the room while Caitlyn remained inside to help her remove Katarina's bloody clothes.

Garen sat in the living room as he waited. He heard Janna chanting a spell that caused a draft to flow out of the healing room. Caitlyn exited the healing room after half an hour with a box containing Katarina's clothes. During that brief period when the door was open, the draft became a powerful gust of wind, and Garen noticed that the healing room was bathed in a soothing green glow.

"Now, are you ready to talk?" Caitlyn's voice caught his attention.

"About?"

"For starters, tell me what you are doing all the way here."

"Katarina was injured, and I needed to get her to a healer. I came here because Piltover was the closest and Janna is a friend of my sister."

"How did she get injured?"

"I don't really know. I found her in that state," Garen lied.

"Did you really?"

"Yes, I did."

Caitlyn stared at Garen unblinkingly with a piercing gaze. He maintained eye contact with her, refusing to back down. The questioning continued.

"Why did you choose to help a Noxian, the Sinister Blade no less?"

"We may be enemies, but she's still a person in need. I would have done the same for anyone else – Demacian, Noxian, anyone."

"Where did you find her?"

"Somewhere nearby, a few kilometres outside Piltover."

"How long did it take you to arrive here after finding her?"

"Twenty minutes to half an hour."

"Why did you look so breathless when I met you, if you had only walked half an hour at the most?"

"I was running the whole night before I even found her."

"Why were you running at such an odd hour?"

"Sheriff, are you interrogating me? I don't believe I've broken any of Piltover's laws. If I'm wrong about that, then I exercise my right to remain silent."

Caitlyn did not react to that last response. If she was surprised at his outburst, she did not show any hint of it. She merely carried on with her unwavering stare.

"This is not an interrogation, although as Sheriff, I am empowered under Piltovian law to question anyone in this jurisdiction. I am asking these questions in my personal capacity, and you are under no obligation to answer them. I do have one last question for you, off the record, if you wish to answer it. What is your relationship with the Sinister Blade?"

"That is… she… we are…" Garen stammered. Caitlyn raised an eyebrow at his hesitation.

"That is a private matter that I would rather not disclose."

Caitlyn's eyebrow remained raised. She turned to the box containing Katarina's clothes and started rummaging through it while asking her next question.

"Do you recognise-"

Caitlyn was interrupted when the door of the healing room opened. A visibly-drained Janna approached Garen.

"I've done all I can to heal her. She's almost recovered now. She's hasn't woken up yet, but you can go see her."

Garen thanked her, feeling grateful to her for healing Katarina and for the welcome distraction. Caitlyn's unrelenting questioning was starting to make him hot under the collar. He got up and went into the healing room when Caitlyn nodded at him.

* * *

Notes: My writing for this chapter was longer than planned, so I separated it into two chapters. My personal experience as a Fanfiction reader suggests that a chapter should not be longer than around 3000 words or the reader will start losing interest halfway through.

The next chapter will be up soon once I finish editing it.


	3. Chapter 3

Garen breathed a sigh of relief as he entered the room, but all thoughts about Caitlyn's questioning immediately left his mind as soon as he laid his eyes on Katarina. She was still asleep, dressed in hospital clothing, looking in a much better condition. There were no visible traces of blood anywhere on her body. Her forehead was no longer feverish to the touch. Janna had done a good job healing her.

Garen pushed aside some of Katarina's red hair, allowing him to get a view of her face. She looked peaceful as she slept, bearing no resemblance to the ruthless assassin that she was known to be, and that he had witnessed first-hand. She now looked much more similar to the Katarina he had previously known. He spotted a vertical scar running down the centre of her left eye, stretching from her forehead to just above her cheek. That scar had not been there when he last met her. He wondered how she got that scar, feeling a small bout of rage rising in his chest. Whoever had given her that scar could easily have permanently blinded her. Yet, for all he knew, the culprit could have been one of his Demacian compatriots. He probably had no right to get angry when he himself had nearly killed her.

Careful to maintain silence, Garen moved a chair next to Katarina's bed and plopped down on it, taking Katarina's right hand in his own. He closed his eyes briefly as all of the latest happenings over the last few days took its toll on him. He had never expected to see Katarina near the Ironspike Mountains of all places, especially after a failed attempt to kill Jarvan. He had known for some time that she was a member of the Noxian army, and that there was a chance that he would meet her on the battlefield one day, but their encounter had come much earlier than he expected. It had been years since they last met, but their latest encounter had been nothing short of hostile. Katarina had immediately unsheathed her blades at him just as he had drawn his own sword at her. No words had been said between them, and perhaps none were needed. They were soldiers, first and foremost; soldiers on opposing sides of the battlefield. That superseded any and all other personal relationships.

Garen reached into his collar and pulled out his necklace. It was a simple stainless steel ball chain that ran through a ring. The ring itself was made of pure platinum with exquisite craftsmanship that shone through its modest design. Carved into the inner band of the ring was the single word "VORACITY". Many of the Demacian soldiers had seen him wearing that ring, but apart from himself, only Jarvan and Lux knew the existence of the word inscribed on the inside. However, even the two of them did not know about the background of the ring or the meaning of the inscribed word.

Garen unclasped the necklace and removed the ring, putting it back on his left ring finger, the place that it was originally meant to occupy. It still fit perfectly. He stood up, looking at Katarina's neck and peering around the collar of her hospital shirt. No necklace. He glanced at the fingers of her left hand. No ring either. The irony was not lost on him. She had indeed moved on after all. It was time for him to move on too. His thumb was drawing circles on the back of her hand, etching the feel of her silky skin into his memory. He let his eyes wander over to her cherry lips. Surely… just one for the road? A last one before he put all their history behind him? In a time of impending war, when people all around him were dying, he could not be sure that he would ever meet Katarina again. Surely she would not mind letting him have one? He leaned down towards her lips, slowly narrowing the gap between them, so close that he could feel her breath against his face…

He could not make that final step. Doing so would only reopen all of their past experiences. He had to stop. He let go of her hand and removed the ring from his finger. Threading the ball chain through the ring, Garen clasped the necklace around his neck again and tucked it back into his shirt. The ring no longer sat around his finger. Instead, it was now nestled against his chest, right next to his heart, where nobody could see it. The same concept probably applied to his past relationship with Katarina. Nobody else would ever know about the experiences they shared together. It would forever remain hidden in the depths of his heart.

He left Katarina alone in the healing room and entered the waiting room, where Janna sat on a chair. She was nodding off, clearly failing in her attempt to stay awake. He apologised for waking her and thanked her for her services. She initially refused to accept his payment, but ended up doing so at his insistence. He left the building after convincing her to tell no one about all of that night's occurrences, not even Lux. It was time to return to camp before anyone got suspicious.

"Leaving so soon?" Caitlyn spoke up from behind him as he approached the border of Piltover.

Garen turned around. It was already morning and Caitlyn had changed into her blue officer uniform, signifying that she was now on duty. In her hand was a dry-cleaning bag containing Katarina's clothes, all washed and neatly pressed.

"Is this another interrogation, sheriff?"

"I hardly think so, Crownguard. It merely seems to me that you are leaving something, or rather someone, behind."

"Katarina's fine now. She will leave on her own when she wakes up."

"I see."

Garen took her brisk answer as his cue to leave. He turned to talk away but returned after a few steps. Caitlyn had her arms crossed as she watched him.

"Sheriff, could you do me a favour?"

"Depends what it is."

"Please don't tell anyone that you saw Katarina and me here today. It's very important for both our sakes."

Caitlyn was silent for a while, her expression unreadable. Her eyes were hidden by her large tinted sunglasses, but Garen could still feel her piercing glare burning a hole in his face.

"I cannot promise absolute secrecy because I may be obligated by law to disclose every personal observation in the interest of national security, but you have my word that I will not mention today's events for trivial purposes."

Garen thanked her briefly and left in the direction of the stables. He needed to find a horse in order to return to camp by midday.

* * *

Katarina moaned as she opened her heavy eyelids. Her mouth was dry and tasted of bile, which she swallowed down. She rolled to the side and stood up from the bed but was forced to sit back down as a wave of dizziness disoriented her. Her head was pounding, as though it was being hit repeatedly by a Brutaliser. With a hand on her head, Katarina stood up again, leaning against the wall for support.

She looked around, not recognising the unfamiliar surroundings. The last thing she remembered was that prolonged fight with Garen, after which she had passed out. She wondered whether Garen had betrayed her. The dark, intimidating room did look a little bit like a detention room, albeit with uncharacteristically low security. The clothing that she was dressed in also bore some resemblance to prison clothes. She felt a devastating pang of hurt and disappointment beginning to rise up at the possibility of Garen's betrayal, but forced it back. Of course she should not have expected anything else. He considered her an enemy now.

Katarina picked up a sharp pair of scissors from a nearby drawer. It was the only weapon in the room. She tested the door and found it unlocked, which was strange for a detention room. The room next door was brightly-lit, forcing her to close her eyes and raise an arm to block out the sudden burst of light as she blinked rapidly to allow her eyes to adjust. She heard footsteps approaching from the nearby corridor and hid right around the corner to set a trap.

The person approaching was a blond girl dressed in a blue coat, carrying a red umbrella and a microphone. Katarina waited for her to walk past before leaping in and covering the girl's mouth from behind. The girl struggled but quietened down when Katarina held the pair of scissors to her neck.

"Now, I'm going to release my hand to ask you some questions and you are not going to scream. Got that?" Katarina whispered into the girl's ear. The girl nodded and Katarina released the hand covering her mouth.

"Who are you and where are we?" Katarina asked.

"I-I'm Janna Windforce, wind mage and weather girl. We are in my house in Piltover Central," the girl stuttered as she shivered out of fear.

"How did I end up here?"

"Garen brought you here this morning and I helped to treat your injuries. You were out cold for the whole day. He left a few hours ago."

"You're lying. This is a prison, isn't it?" Katarina whispered, moving the scissors closer to Janna's neck.

"I'm not. Please believe me. This really is my house!" Janna cried.

Katarina turned Janna around to face her, searching her eyes for any sign of deceit.

"What is going on here?!" boomed a voice from the doorway at the end of the corridor.

Katarina grabbed Janna again and turned her around to face the voice, using her as a human shield. She saw a uniformed police officer pointing her rifle at her. Katarina recognised her as Caitlyn, the sheriff of Piltover.

"This will be your only warning. You have five seconds to release the hostage before I carry out aggressive action against you," Caitlyn commanded.

Katarina was fully aware of the sheriff's proficiency as a sharpshooter. The rifle's red laser pointer was already lined up against her forehead. Faced with no other choice, she dropped the scissors and let go of Janna.

"Take three steps back and put your hands against the wall," Caitlyn ordered, keeping her rifle trained on Katarina, who complied.

Caitlyn stepped forward cautiously and pulled both of Katarina's wrists behind her back before unhooking the pair of handcuffs attached to the waistband of her pleated skirt.

"Katarina Du Couteau, you are under arrest for assaulting Janna Windforce. You have the right to remain silent and anything you say-"

"Wait, don't!" Janna interjected, "Don't arrest her. She's just confused. She was just about to leave. No harm done. I'm alright, see?"

"Very well. I shall overlook this incident on account of the victim's request." Caitlyn released Katarina's wrists and gestured to the waiting room. "Your belongings are in a box that Janna will bring to you. Ensure that they are intact. Inform me when you are ready to leave and I will escort you to the border."

Katarina kept silent as she moved back into the healing room, wanting the whole ordeal to be over and done with. She put on her leather clothes from the box that Janna brought her, making sure that her weapons were present before returning to Caitlyn. Katarina rolled her eyes when the sheriff promptly slapped a pair of handcuffs on her wrists, citing safety reasons and standard protocol associated with transporting an armed captive. They got into Caitlyn's police cruiser and set off for the South-Western border of Piltover.

They had only been driving for barely a minute when Katarina noticed that one of her most precious belongings was missing. She tried to search her pockets, which was relatively difficult with the handcuffs binding her wrist together. Caitlyn noticed her struggle, but did not say a word. Katarina twisted her body to reach into her back pockets, but the elusive item was nowhere to be found. She closed her eyes for a moment before letting out a feeble sigh as the emotions that she had kept in check all this while threatened to overflow.

Failing a mission after receiving the wrong reconnaissance, having a fight to the death with Garen that ended with the two of them nearly killing each other, to feeling a heart-breaking sense of betrayal when she thought he had taken advantage of her unconsciousness to capture her, and now losing a precious, irreplaceable item. She could have dropped it anywhere along her journey. It could be anywhere in Valoran, possibly even washed away into the ocean. Finding it was close to impossible now.

Wordlessly, Caitlyn reached into the dashboard, took out a small item, and tossed it into Katarina's lap.

"The bar was cracked. I took it to the repair shop for- HEY!" Caitlyn yelped when Katarina reached over and wrapped her hands around the sheriff's bare waist in a clumsy attempt to hug her. The vehicle swerved sideways momentarily before Caitlyn managed to regain control of it.

"Have you gone bonkers, you **FUSTER CLUCK**?! Do you know we nearly got into an accident? My heart almost fell out!"

Katarina chuckled at the normally prim and proper sheriff's choice of words. Caitlyn seemed to realise her slip-up since she blushed and kept her eyes on the road, making Katarina laugh even harder. That incident seemed to break the ice between the two of them, and the rest of the trip was filled with a comfortable silence that was occasionally punctuated by Katarina's unsuccessful attempts to strike up a conversation. The journey ended when they reached the border of Piltover. Caitlyn unlocked the handcuffs and gave Katarina a few days' worth of supplies for her trip back to Noxus.

"Hey!" Caitlyn called out after Katarina had walked a few metres.

Katarina looked back at the sheriff, to see her standing behind the open door of her police cruiser while leaning against the roof of the vehicle. She took off her tinted sunglasses, revealing a pair of warm amethyst irises.

"Rest assured, your clandestine relationship with the Might of Demacia is safe with me," Caitlyn paused to put her sunglasses back on.

( •_•)

( •_•)⌐■-■

(⌐■_■)

"_Mrs Crownguard_."

* * *

-_YEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!_-

* * *

Without waiting for a response, Caitlyn put both her sunglasses and her stoic facade back on, tipping her officer hat before driving away without a word. Katarina was left staring open-mouthed as the police cruiser disappeared around the corner. The Sheriff of Piltover was indeed as observant as she was rumoured to be.

Katarina looked down at the precious item in her hand that Caitlyn had returned to her. It was a beautiful gold ring attached to a metal bead. The bead itself connected the ring to a curved barbell trinket. Carved into the inner band of the ring was the single word "PERSEVERANCE". Katarina unfastened one end of the curved barbell and carefully slid the narrow shaft through the upper rim of her navel before fastening it back, leaving the ring hanging directly on her belly button once again. The barbell had cracked the day before when Garen hit her with that powerful strike to the midsection.

Wearing Garen's ring as a belly button piercing made it visible to everyone, but most people saw it as a symbol of her rebellious character without knowing the true story behind that ring. In Katarina's mind, that somewhat reflected the nature of her past relationship with Garen. They had been rebels at that time, defying the web of stifling social norms that bound them. Noxus and Demacia had had hostile relationships for a long time. A marriage between a Noxian and a Demacian was practically unheard of. In the end, the pressure proved too much, eventually culminating in their separation. Katarina had not wanted it to end, but there was simply no way for them to continue with their relationship, especially since Garen had given up on it. Seeing Garen again had shown her that he had well and truly moved on. He was not wearing the ring she gave him and might even have thrown it away for all she knew.

If their circumstances had been different – if she had been a Demacian or he a Noxian – they might have remained together, but there was no point speculating about something that would never transpire. The fact that it was he who broke the bar attached to her ring, albeit accidentally, was probably a sign that their relationship was not meant to be. She did not know what would happen the next time she and Garen met. Perhaps they would meet again on the battlefield, where one of them would actually kill the other. Maybe they would meet in more peaceful times, where they could put all their previous conflict behind them. Either way, she needed to put all of the lingering feelings behind her and become stronger, for that was the Noxian way where only the powerful survive. Power is mightier than emotion, even if her enemy happened to be her husband.

* * *

Notes: Cait's lines were really enjoyable to write. My interpretation of her character is one that obeys strict protocol and does things by the book. It's always fun to write scenes involving such characters being forced out of their comfort zone.

The next chapter will take some time because I'm still fleshing out what happens next. I've got an ending in mind and still have to figure out how to get there.

Happy New Year everyone, and may 2014 be better than 2013 for all of you.


	4. Chapter 4

Shyvana strode around the camp, inspecting the patrols for the umpteenth time that day. She had stepped up security throughout the camp after the assassin successfully infiltrated it the previous night. All around her, she saw soldiers milling around, talking and laughing. It annoyed her to no end. Their prince had nearly been assassinated! How could they be fooling around as though nothing had happened?! She was seething by the time she reached Jarvan's tent.

Shyvana opened the tent flap to find Jarvan pacing back and forth with his hands behind his back. Hearing the tent flap opening, he turned towards her with a hopeful look on his face, but his expression died down when he saw her.

"Oh, it's just you," Jarvan lamented.

Shyvana took an involuntary step back. She did not know why, but his reaction hurt her deeply, as though a door had been slammed shut in her face.

"Were you expecting someone else? I'm sorry, I'll come back some other time," Shyvana said with disappointment in her voice.

"Shyvana, wait, don't go just yet."

Shyvana had turned to walk out of the tent, but Jarvan stopped her by putting a hand across her shoulders and guiding her back to sit at his table. He took a seat next to her.

"Apologies Shyvana, I am merely worried about Garen. He has been missing for almost 20 hours now," Jarvan confided.

"I see. If he does not return within the next four hours, I will lead a search party to look for him."

"That would be an excellent idea. That aside, you came to see me about something?"

"I have re-examined the patrol routes and sentries as you ordered. The procedure during the change of shifts was notably deficient and I addressed that accordingly," Shyvana reported.

"Good job. There is one other thing that we should have done. Can you guess what it is?"

Shyvana thought for a while but came up with nothing.

"When on neutral ground, always occupy the elevated and sunny areas while avoiding the opening of valleys – Chapter 9 Section 1 of Sun Tzu's _The Art of War_," Jarvan recited.

"I see. I'll make arrangements to scout out a better location in the mountains next time," Shyvana said, lowering her gaze.

"Shyvana, is there something wrong?" Jarvan asked. He had noticed how her shoulders slouched, as well as how her eyes clouded over with despair in response to his words.

"I'm not sure if I'm cut out for all this," Shyvana confessed. "I'm in charge of security over the camp, so it's my fault that the assassin managed to infiltrate the camp last night."

"Nobody blames you for that. You won't learn if you don't make mistakes. All you can do is make sure you don't make the same mistakes next time," Jarvan replied.

"But that nearly got you killed! If it had been someone more experienced than me, then-"

"Are you SERIOUSLY going to give up now? Because if you are, then you are simply wasting my time! Demacia has no need for an indecisive and self-doubting commander!" Jarvan interrupted, raising his voice. He was about to continue but was alarmed to hear Shyvana sniffling.

"Sorry about that, I went overboard there," Jarvan apologised.

"It's not that," Shyvana replied in a shaky voice. She raised a hand to wipe away a few tears that had leaked out of her eyes. "I don't know what I would do if you died. Everyone I'm close to always seems to leave me at some point."

"Listen Shyvana," Jarvan said seriously. "I won't ever leave you. In fact, I am still sitting here because you saved my life last night when you deflected that knife. So don't go blaming yourself over a mistake that you more than made up for."

Jarvan paused to place his hand over Shyvana's in a gesture of support before continuing.

"Now look, it takes YEARS for most people to become proficient in military strategy. I myself have been taking lessons from Xin Zhao ever since I was young. You have only been learning from me for a few MONTHS. Nobody expects you to be on par with the top Demacian strategists, but I have faith that you will get there some day as long as you keep working diligently."

"But why are you doing this for me out of all of the soldiers you have? You're a prince, I'm just a dragon," Shyvana asked. She knew very well that her kind was unwelcome among humans.

"Xin Zhao once told me a story when I was still a child. In a fictional country known as China, there were three states vying for power. Liu Bei, the leader of the state of Shu, was looking for a strategist to advise him during his campaign. A close friend recommended a farmer named Zhuge Liang, who lived in a cottage in a faraway land. Liu Bei visited Zhuge Liang twice, but he was away each time and Liu Bei left empty-handed. It was only when he visited a third time that Zhuge Liang was home, and he convinced him to join him as his strategist. The saying 'three visits to the cottage' refers to a ruler's determination to recruit talented people. Xin Zhao wanted me to understand the importance of finding capable Zhuge Liang-s to join me."

"And that is why I am training you in strategy. I will be king of Demacia some day, and I want the best people working for me instead of for my enemies. Demacia is a rigid society rooted in tradition. Its citizens are more concerned with your family name than your individual talent. I hope to change all that. You're intelligent, loyal, determined, and an incredible warrior. I want everyone in Demacia to see your capability."

"Zhuge Liang's initial secluded lifestyle earned him a nickname among his peers. Do you know what it is?" Jarvan asked. He gave the answer when Shyvana shook her head. "The Sleeping Dragon."

Shyvana was quiet for a moment as Jarvan's words sank in. She rotated her hand so that the palm was facing upwards and interlocked their fingers. Jarvan responded by giving her hand an encouraging squeeze. They stared into each other's eyes.

"Am I… interrupting something?" asked a familiar voice.

"Garen! Where have you been? Shyvana was going to send out a search party to look for you!" Jarvan exclaimed, reluctantly letting go of Shyvana's hand.

"I chased Katarina into the forest but she knocked me out. I only regained consciousness an hour ago and returned as fast as I could," Garen explained.

"And Katarina?" Jarvan asked.

"She escaped."

"Forget about that. All that matters is you're alive. You had me worried sick!" Jarvan said.

"Hang on, you mean to say the assassin - what's her name - Katarina? She defeated you in a duel?" Shyvana questioned, astonished that Garen actually lost a fight.

"No, I was knocked out somehow. Someone hit me in the back of the head. Maybe she had backup. I didn't see too clearly," Garen replied.

Shyvana felt that something was amiss with Garen's explanation. If he had been hit behind the head, why were there small traces of dried blood smeared over various parts of the front of his armour? Nevertheless, Jarvan seemed to accept the explanation, so Shyvana did not press Garen further. Jarvan was right, Garen was alive and that was all that mattered. She excused herself and went to check on the sentries again. Having realised how much Jarvan actually trusted her, she did not want to disappoint him again.

* * *

Katarina raised her hand to knock on the door of her father's study. She hesitated for a moment, feeling somewhat afraid of what was to come, but proceeded to give the door two soft knocks. It was best to get it over and done with as soon as possible so that she could finally put the whole fiasco behind her.

"Come in," General Du Couteau growled, "This better be important."

Katarina gulped. Her father only used that tone of voice when he was in a bad mood, and a General Du Couteau in a bad mood was a General prone to violence. Katarina opened the door slightly and slipped in before the closing the door behind her. Her father sat at his heavy oak desk, still engrossed in his paperwork. Katarina hesitantly stepped forward and sat down at the other side of the desk, waiting for her father to address her. General Du Couteau signed off one last document before putting down his fountain pen and looking up at his visitor.

"Ah, Katarina, you have returned. I trust the mission was successfully accomplished without much trouble?" General Du Couteau asked. He gave her a grim smile, but Katarina noticed that it did not reach his eyes, which remained cold and harsh.

"I'm afraid things didn't go that smoothly, sir. A number of complications arose and I had to abandon the mission."

The atmosphere in the room immediately went still after Katarina gave her reply. She watched as the smile left her father's face, replaced by a scowl that he reserved only for the moments that truly enraged him. The General placed both hands on the table in front of him and pushed himself up to stand. He stepped around the table, each step heavier than the last, before stopping in front of the seated Katarina, who could only watch in fear as he towered over her. She knew what would happen next.

The General erupted without warning.

"You fool!" General Du Couteau bellowed. He backhanded Katarina across the cheek with so much force that the impact of the blow caused her to fall off the chair and onto the floor. "I told you to do it properly!"

"Get up," the General ordered, kicking Katarina in the ribs. When Katarina remained sprawled on the floor, he picked her up by the collar and flung her at the wall, causing her to groan in pain as her back collided with it.

"You are an absolute disgrace to this House, you lying no-good punk!" the General snarled through gritted teeth. "You knew that I put my political reputation on the line just to convince High Command to give you this mission!"

He paused to cuff Katarina's other cheek with a thunderous slap that echoed across the entire room.

"What do you expect me to say to High Command now?" the General spat at her. "You've just given Swain even more leverage to oust me from my position!"

"The intel was inaccurate," Katarina protested calmly despite the burning pain in her cheeks. Past experience had taught her that it was best not to show any fear in front of her father. "The mission brief said that the Demacian camp was South-East of the Ironspike Mountains, but it was actually on the other side. The whole journey took twice as long as it should. I was in no condition to complete the mission by the time I reached there."

"Impossible, that brief was prepared by LeBlanc herself! Her intel has never been wrong before, at least not by that much! Unless…" General Du Couteau trailed off to gather his train of thought. "What else happened during the mission?"

"What do you mean?" Katarina asked nervously, fearing that her father had found out about her run-in with Garen and their past relations.

"They set it up. There must be something else they wanted out of this mission," the General muttered as he rubbed his chin in thought. "They wanted you in that camp. Unless they sent you on a suicide mission, you must have seen or heard something."

"All I noticed was a soldier who looked like a dragon. Red armour with gold trim. Bluish-brown skin and long red hair. Superhuman reflexes. She might be a half-dragon. I think they call her Shyvana."

"That alone is not enough," the General murmured. "Are you sure there was nothing else?"

"Nothing of interest."

"So be it," the General concluded. "Tell no one about the dragon. I'll find a way to use that information to salvage my position."

"Yes, sir."

"Now get out of my sight. You dun goofed for the last time. If you fail any more missions, consequences will never be the same!" the General threatened.

Katarina exited the room, leaving her father to resume his paperwork. She let out the breath that she had unknowingly been holding. She was used to her father's rough treatment of her, but that still did not take away the fear that she felt every time she had to face her father after a failure. Her thoughts started to drift as she trudged down the familiar corridors towards her room.

It was no secret within the household that General Du Couteau wanted a son as his firstborn in order to carry on the family name. He had hoped for a son that he could train in martial arts and that would one day succeed his position. He was furious when his wife first gave birth to a girl, and Katarina heard from the senior servants' gossips that her father had refused to even look at his daughter for an entire month after she was born. Then Cassiopeia was born and the General was beyond livid. He took out his anger on his wife, blaming her for her filthy genes that deprived him of the son he always wanted. The guilt and shame was so intense that she left the house soon after, never to be seen again. Many believed that she had committed suicide, while others claim that she had started a new life in a faraway village. Nobody knew for sure.

While General Du Couteau did grieve for his wife's departure, he never let go of his wish for a son, raising his daughters as though they were male. Katarina, as the older child, received the brunt of that treatment, always being subject to harsh punishment whenever she was caught taking part in activities that her father deemed to be too girlish. She rebelled against her father and secretly joined a dance group, which she practised with in the evenings after bribing her martial arts instructors to allow her to skip classes.

Everything changed when Katarina came home one day to find her younger sister weeping. Her father stood in front of her with a box containing the latter's hidden doll set. He proceeded to snap each of her dolls in two and stomped on them, shattering them into a hundred pieces, all the while ignoring a tearful Cassiopeia's pleadings for him to stop.

With her sister's sobs ringing in her ears, it was right then that a sixteen-year-old Katarina made a decision. She would be the son that her father wanted her to be, in exchange for sparing her sister from that treatment. That night, she cut her waist-long red hair with a single shear of her scissors, leaving it extending only to her neck. She quit the dance group the day after and began attending her military classes with renewed vigour. Her father was pleased with her transformation, but Katarina herself became an empty shell, a trainee soldier devoid of any personality. That was until…

"Welcome home, Katty!" Cassiopeia's bubbly greeting interrupted Katarina's thoughts. She had reached her room without realising. Her sister had been waiting in the room ever since she returned.

"Cassie, I told you not to call me that," Katarina complained with a wry smile. Seeing her sister always brightened her mood.

Cassiopeia slithered over to her sister and enveloped her in a tight hug, which Katarina returned, before allowing Cassiopeia to guide her over to sit on the bed.

"How was the mission?" Cassiopeia enquired, as she manoeuvred her scaly lower body to sit next to her sister.

"Couldn't have gone any worse," Katarina sighed. She leant back to lie down with her legs dangling off the edge off the bed. "LeBlanc fed me the wrong information and I ended up getting caught by the Demacians."

"No way! Like OMG, the old hag did that?" Cassiopeia asked in a surprised tone.

"She's in cahoots with Swain after all. We all know he wants to take over father's position in High Command."

"Like duh! He totally wants you dead!" Cassiopeia exclaimed before taking her sister's lead and lying down next to her. "Whatever, screw him, how did you survive?"

"I fought one of the Demacian commanders and he let me go," Katarina said.

"Are you for real? Why would he do that?"

Katarina remained silent as she pulled her arms back to rest behind her head. She knew why Garen let her go of course, but she could not possibly tell her sister about it. She continued to stare up at the plain white ceiling, which was starting to look very interesting to her. When she looked back at Cassiopeia, she found her sister smirking at her with a knowing grin.

"What?" Katarina stared blankly at her sister.

"Was he hot?" Cassiopeia asked mischievously, shrugging her eyebrows twice and winking.

"What? Wait, you… Huh?" Katarina spluttered and looked away. "Of all things to ask, you're interested in THAT?"

"You're turning red! I totally hit the jackpot, right? Right?" Cassiopeia teased and poked her sister's blushing cheeks.

"You didn't!" Katarina protested. "Well, I mean, sure he's hot, but what does that have to do with anything?"

"It so has everything to do with everything! He's hot, you're hot. He chased after you, fell in love with you at first sight, and decided to let you go! How cool is that! You go, girl!"

"Now you're just imagining things. Do I look like the kind of girl who would fall in love with a Demacian?" Katarina grimaced inwardly at the irony of her question.

"Oh absolutely, Katty, absolutely," Cassiopeia mocked. "Besides, I didn't say anything about you falling in love with him. You said that yourself."

"Argh, can we please drop this subject? I've dealt with my fair share of Demacians to last a lifetime."

"Fine, fine," Cassiopeia relented. "I'll stop teasing you."

"Good. I really don't want to talk about it anymore. I mean seriously, what is love?" Katarina mused.

"Baby don't hurt me, don't hurt me, no more?"

Katarina clicked her tongue at her sister's cheeky reply and reached over to the bedside table. She picked up a small eraser and chucked it at her sister's head, missing narrowly.

"Forget it, I shouldn't have said anything," Katarina sighed.

"Not to add to your stress, dear sister, but if you don't act quickly, I'll steal him from you one day."

"Yeah yeah, whatever," Katarina scoffed. "Now can you please leave me alone? I really need to sleep right now and you're giving me a headache."

"Whatever you say, Katty, whatever you say," Cassiopeia said as she got off the bed and glided over to the door. "But don't forget, I will forever be the prettier one!"

Cassiopeia managed to close the door just before the flying eraser could hit her head. Her loud cackling echoed down the corridor as she left. Katarina shook her head and smiled at her sister's parting words before drifting off to sleep.


End file.
